Thursday, February 25, 2016

The Oregon Militia Action Of January 2016

[Transcript by request.]
Greetings from the Northwest Homeland, comrades. It’s February the 25th, 2016, I’m Harold Covington, and this is Radio Free Northwest.

All right, my respiratory infection from last week is still ongoing, but I’ve been promising you guys some kind of comprehensive commentary on the Harney County militia thing for weeks now and it’s time I delivered, so I apologize for any froglike resonances in my voice this week. Ribit, ribit.  

Dozens of White lives have now been destroyed by what was done down there in Burns, Oregon, including the life of old man Cliven Bundy himself who will now be dying in prison, surprise, surprise. Bundy was lured to Oregon on a visit to his sons in jail, where he walked in, was arrested and ended up in a cell himself, for the remainder of his life. There is no question that Cliven Bundy will never see his home in Nevada again, and will die in prison for the crime of embarrassing a Third World dictator while firing not one single shot in defiance of that dictator to protect his home and his way of life, and spilling not so much as a single drop of the blood of the tyrant’s servants.

Death in prison is what you get in Obama’s Amurrica when you resist and protest using symbolism. Or in Lavoy Finicum’s case, what you get is to be murdered in the snow as an example to terrorize others into bowing low and submitting to the tyrant’s will.

As an aside, I might wonder how much worse it could possibly be if we were to use something other than symbolic protest and street theater. I mean, if the only difference between holding a semi-automatic rifle up in the air so the television cameras can see it, and actually pointing the weapon and pulling the trigger, is five or ten years more on your 50-year or life without parole sentence, I’m not quite sure why we still have this obsession with symbolic dog and pony shows, but apparently we do.
Our wee little Movement or our wee little community or our tiny little section of the internet or however you want to describe this almost microscopic section of the White American population we have access to and can speak for—anyway, we need to sit down and conduct an extended post-mortem on Harney County and try, try, TRY if at all possible actually to learn something from this. 

Our primary problem is twofold: not only do we continue to fail, but we seem utterly incapable of learning anything from our failure. Seventy years of failure. The classic definition of stupidity is doing the same thing over and over again, yet each time expecting a different result. That’s us, guys. That’s us in everything we do.

The great British National Socialist Colin Jordan once said that our Movement has a very big heart, and a very small head. Both the big heart and the small head were prominently on display down in Harney County during the month of January.

Now, let me say one thing before we proceed any further. I want to be clear on something. Unlike so much of what we’ve done down through the years, this episode in Oregon has not been a total failure. There is at least moral progress of a sort, although we have achieved that progress at an appalling cost.

Small head or not, these two dozen or so people in Harney County who sacrificed their lives for freedom did just that—they sacrificed everything for freedom, for a political and moral principle, for something higher than themselves and their own benefit or desire, and they did so with forethought and presumably at least a theoretical acceptance of the possible consequences, although I’m not many of them actually had any idea as to what life as a slave laborer in Obama’s prison-industrial complex is like.

White people don’t do that anymore. They don’t do anything any more for any moral principle higher than themselves, never mind openly defy the American dictatorship. The fact that it happened in this case was a throwback, an anachronism, a sudden reversion to an earlier genetic operating system for White men. Those people in Burns, Oregon did all the wrong things; indeed it’s hard to think of any aspect of this incident they didn’t screw up. But they did the wrong things for the right reasons this time. For us, that is incredible progress.

This was not our usual little racist hiccup. This was not some lone individual acting off a sense of personal grievance where race factors in but it’s not the only thing involved. This was not some funny little man who hears voices in his head going berserk with a gun and then taking a taxi to surrender at the FBI office. This is not some hysterical pissed-off kid flipping out with a piece and gunning down some street niggers because he simply can’t take being insulted and belittled and degraded any more, by people and creatures who are quite clearly inferior and who have no right to be where they are and damned sure no right to be telling him what to do. This is not some enraged middle-aged man who has finally realized that he has been buttfucked by America, that he will always be a day late and a dollar short because of the color of his skin and his genitalia, and then to top it all off some ragheads who should not be here come along and steal his parking space for the umpteenth time, and he just snaps.

This was a group of White people electing to take action collectively, as a group, in defense of moral principle and in pursuit of a political objective. That fact alone makes Harney County of historic significance, and as badly as these men and women screwed the pooch, nothing can ever take that away from them.
They made a grand gesture, one for which they will probably suffer the torments of hell for the rest of their lives. Was it worth it? No. But it was done. There is nothing more futile than grand gestures in politics, and I wish these people hadn’t done what they did and had found something more constructive to do with their lives and their guns, but it now is what it is, so let’s see how we can turn it to good use.

* * *

The first question that jumps up at me, a question which I’m sure will recur again and again down through the ages as any historians and scholars who might survive discuss why the White race perished from the face of the earth ... anyway, the first question has to do with Ammon Bundy himself. 

I will assume for the sake of this presentation that the media narrative for once actually bears some ballpark resemblance to truth, and that Ammon Bundy was in fact the leader of this cluster-fuck as opposed merely to being the public spokesman; that he was in fact its inspiration and guiding light, and that most of the planning was his.

That’s another problem; it’s not clear how much advance planning there actually was in all this. These guys might have just ended their street demonstration and decided to cruise out to the wildlife refuge and move in as a kind of sit-in; there were a lot of media comments in the early days as to the alleged shortage of food and other supplies at the refuge, almost like the militia had brought their guns but not their rations. Occupy Wall Street got away with such crap hundreds of times with only the most gentle of taps on the wrist, why shouldn't they? It’s still virtually impossible for anyone to get any clear idea of what exactly happened and when with regard to anything about this incident.

Be that as it may, for now let’s go with the official narrative until it appears that’s not accurate and keep Ammon Bundy as the generalissimo and Fearless Leader here, our own latter-day John Brown. The urgent question here is the same that keeps arising in the case of the half-insane John Brown back in 1859: what the hell was he thinking? What in God’s name was going on in this man’s mind?

What did Ammon Bundy think was going to happen when he openly defied and denied a Third World African dictator and publicly mooned him, as it were?

Did Ammon Bundy believe that there was going to be some kind of phone call from Obama, and Barry was going pull a Stepin Fetchit and release the Hammond father and son and beg him “Oh, please, Mistah Cowboy, don’t wave dat big gun around no more, I so scared, I do whutcha say, boss?” And the whole thing would end in a guest appearance on Saturday Night Live for all the occupiers? Why in the same of all that is holy would he think such a thing? And yet in this deranged media-centric society it’s possible he had some idea like that in the back of his mind.
I am the last to say a single good word about any of these federal thugs and hired killers, but they are what they are and no longer bother to dissemble now they have learned they can operate completely without accountability of any kind. They’re mercenaries and they will do what they’ve been hired to do, albeit with as much care to the safety of their own skins as possible, as when they sent over a hundred men and 40 vehicles and fired over 100 shots in order to murder the middle-aged man they had chosen to serve as an example pour encourager les autres.

Why did Ammon Bundy not understand that these morally denatured hyenas from the FBI would kill if they were ordered to do so? As they have done in the past, without remorse or the remotest flicker of conscience? I'm sure he never heard of Jeff Hughes or Ibragim Todashev, but did the names of Vicky Weaver and Gordon Kahl or Maynard Campbell never come to his notice? What possessed him to believe, as he must have done, that Barry would refrain from giving such an order? Barry is a nigger; he has no sense of legality, ethics or moral conscience which would prevent him from giving an order to commit murder any more than did Idi Amin. Why, why, why did Ammon Bundy not grasp this?

Why did that example need to be made out of Lavoy Finicum, to make a point that everybody on the militia side should already have known, understood, and accepted without being told?  I.e. that tyrants cannot allow open defiance and will kill those who attempt it? What the hell did Ammon Bundy think was going to happen when he behaved as he did? God, I wish I could somehow sit down and talk to him and try to figure out what was going on in his mind, so we can make sure that none of us ever go through this again. If we’re going to start trading in the lives of our friends and family we should do it to some purpose.

* * *
When the events at the Malheur Wildlife Refuge began to unfold, I think that like all of us, I briefly hoped that at long last, this was going to be it. Somebody other than me had finally gotten some White people to listen to him and follow a plan off-internet, as I have never been able to, and managed to avoid being infiltrated with informers long enough actually to organize something that would give the Northwest its Easter Rebellion, some equivalent of the 10/22 that I describe in my novels.  

Down through the years there have been those who have asked me why I don’t get everybody together and pass out the guns and go march on the state capital in Olympia and proclaim the Northwest Republic, or perhaps declare the NVA a la Bob Mathews to be real, and start shooting at niggers on the street or some fantasy of the kind? I don’t do that because unlike the overwhelming majority of the so-called alt.right I actually do have some military experience, even if it’s 40 years out of date, and I know what all this involves.

Not to mention that if I did issue any such call to arms no one would come except assorted spies for the secret police and some few really dim bulbs indeed. Anybody who answered such a call would have to be a gibbering idiot himself. If you’ve been paying attention I’m sure you’ve noticed that the FBI does stings like that all the time, surrounding some poor old Apu from down at the Quickie Mart with a so-called "terror cell" of five or six people, every single one of whom is an FBI plant except for the targeted individual. Then they end up providing the targeted individual with an inert explosives belt or a truck full of dummy explosive, get the target to drive somewhere and badda bing, badda boom, Apu’s in Marion for the next 30 years. I have been waiting for them to pull this on us.

But just because I don’t have the chops to mount my white horse with my cape billowing in the wind and flourish my saber aloft—nor for that matter do I have the horse or the cape or the saber—that doesn’t mean that there aren’t other, younger and healthier men out there with the qualities and strength of character I lack who could pull it off if their mental do-nothing software could be disabled and uninstalled. There damned well better be if the White race is to have any hope of survival. You know, there’s no cosmic law that declares White Nationalism can’t find its own Che Guevara or Dan Breen or Bill Anderson. O. C. Oglevy doesn’t have to be a fictional character.

When the Malheur Wildlife Refuge thing began I thought as I I’m sure we all did that somehow, despite the unpropitious season, someone had finally decided to do something, to take direct action for change. I know that thrill went across our entire tiny little world; you could almost feel the hope energizing the computer keyboards.

No such luck. As the days went by and the guns stayed silent, it quickly became clear that nothing of the kind was happening. What was occurring at Malheur was not any kind of insurrection against the dictatorship, nor was it ever intended to be. It was an act of symbolic protest, a bit of street theater, or in this case high-plains-in-the-snow-in-midwinter theater.

I’ve said before we’ve all been Waiting For Godot for many years; it looks like I was far more acutely ironic than I knew. Godot finally came, and it turned out that he was nothing more than an actor after all, a character in a morality play, a mime in a cowboy hat. We needed William Wallace, but we got Woody Harrelson.

The guns were just stage props, and I’m sure up until the moment Obama’s murderers shot down Lavoy Finicum the Bundys and the rest of the militia thought everybody got that. Just like the spoiled little lefty brats of Kent State and the Weathermen and Occupy Wall Street, White Americans have been raised in this weird make-believe culture that teaches that words mean nothing. That’s what got those five Communist scumbags killed in Greensboro back in 1979. 

I imagine that when Obama’s killers cut down Lavoy Finicum right in front of them and wounded Ryan Bundy, apparently just with their wild shooting, the Bundy brothers were utterly astounded. I have seen that shocked and horrified reaction on other occasions down through the years, when somebody calls some gun-waving right-wing blowhard’s bluff on his revolutionary rhetoric. “Hey, come on guys, we didn’t really mean it!” Well, the tyrants do mean it.

I received a letter the other day from Bill White dated January 28th, so it only took about three and a half weeks to get here from Chicago, which in Bill’s case means it made good time. His comment on the events in Harney County are simple and to the point: “Do not point guns at people if you are not both willing to kill and prepared to die. Do not take up arms against America’s Zionist occupiers if you are not prepared to do the same. I thought these guys weren’t taking this seriously enough, and now they know—shit gets real.”

In my opinion the problem was that these people weren’t taking it seriously at all. To them this was just a symbolic protest, and I’m sure they thought by now they’d be back home safe and sound and watching themselves on TiVo with a few beers and nachos. I’m not sure, despite their rhetoric, that all of them really understood that they might actually get hurt. 

I would love to know just what the hell was going on in their minds and what they thought was going to happen to them? I suspect Lavoy Finicum got a preview of coming attractions when he heard that the local Child Protective Services or whatever had raided his ranch and seized four of his foster children and taken them away into the night.

I would imagine that Ammon Bundy was deceived into thinking he could get away with it because he was part of a successful effort in the spring of 2014 down in Nevada, when a large force of volunteers managed to force the Bureau of Land Management to back off when they came to steal some of the Bundy family’s cattle. Let me repeat the operative words here: in the spring of 2014, and a large force of volunteers, several thousand strong although how many were actually deployed at any one time I could never gather. Not in the dead of winter, and not with two dozen people. [Music break]
Okay, getting back to Harney County: I have a second question for Ammon Bundy, one I would put to him if I could visit him in his prison cell.

Why, in defiance of all common sense, did you select the dead of winter in the Pacific Northwest for your little bit of street theater, or sagebrush theater or whatever? You live in Idaho now apparently, so you have to know what the high plains winter is like. For crying out loud, Ammon—January?

I assume you had some vision that thousands of people would rush to your aid like they rushed to your father’s aid down there in Nevada when the dictatorship tried to steal your cattle and Harry Reid’s developer son tried to steal your land, which I gather he’s going to get now at knock-down prices since your dad was arrested.  

No doubt this vision of huge militia armies coming over the hill like the cavalry in a John Wayne movie was all part of that central fantasy of yours that somehow or other the world could be changed through acts of symbolism. Maybe you thought you were starting a CIA-style color revolution like the so-called Arab Spring, or in this case the Oregon Winter.

Yes, several thousand people from around the west did come to your father’s aid once before, Ammon. In the spring, let me repeat that, in the spring of 2014, when there was a fairly large playing field to operate on and not a small, constricted area to hole up in, where the land was not snowbound and the area was accessible to all-terrain vehicles and horses, not reliant on two or three asphalt highways that could be and were easily choked off by roadblocks and checkpoints. Also when it was warm enough to get a much larger number of those keyboard commandos out from behind their keyboards, which is hard enough to do even when it’s high summer out.

The simple fact is that the overwhelming majority of all our big bad-ass militiamen who swagger around the gun shows and the right-wing gatherings boasting about how they’re going to do such mighty deeds of valor one of these days when the time is right, are as useless as tits on a bull.They’re just LARPERS, live action role-players, cowardly buffoons in camouflage who will fold like lawn chairs at the first rattle of a pair of handcuffs or rustle of a federal indictment, and everybody knows it, including the FBI. 

You should have known it too, Ammon, better than anyone. You’ve been living with them and working with them for years. You should have had no illusions that all that beer talk and internet talk would ever amount to a bucket of warm spit. How could you have been so deceived about the character of the people you worked with and to whom you were entrusting your life and the lives of your friends?

Pale Males

George Washington’s men may have lived through Valley Forge, but George Washington had White men, whereas all we’ve got is pale males. Today’s White American males are not the men our ancestors were. They are children of civilization raised on Six Flags and central heating. They are simply too soft and weak and unaccustomed to living outdoors for more than a couple of nights, especially in sub-zero weather. They’re not going to do it, and if they attempt it they will be useless.
Guys, if we are ever going to try for real change in this society, one of the primary things we have to force ourselves to do is we must stop deceiving ourselves as to who and what we have to work with by way of human resources. I know. I spent roughly the first ten years of my political life in a futile attempt to get Americans of the 1970s to comport themselves in the manner of Germans from the 1920s. It didn’t work.
By the same token, we cannot get the pale males of the 20-teens to act like they are Continentals from Valley Forge or Quantrill’s Raiders or even like Rockwell’s tiny band of Stormtroopers. I won’t say those breeds are extinct. They’re not, not quite, but we can’t access them because I can’t persuade you guys to help me find them and identify them in any meaningful time frame. You’re sitting there waiting for me to wave my magic wand and do it all for you. The hell of it is, even at this late date I might actually be able to pull off something like that if I could get some of you participatory instead of just tuning in every week, but we won’t go through that again.
Is it possible for us to achieve genuine change in this society using the type of pale males we have been given to work with? Yes, it is, mos’ def as the niggers say. This is going to be a long series of commentaries over the next few weeks and I’ll get into that; suffice it to say that just because the body is soft and weak, or old, doesn’t necessarily mean that the mind isn’t sharp and the spirit isn’t strong. As Xenophon said, and I’m paraphrasing here, the army that is stronger in soul wins. Well, sometimes.
Yes, I know, Ammon, a few people did come to help you and bring you the supplies which, for whatever reason, you don’t seem to have actually brought with you. Some of them were local people from Harney County itself whose subsequent arrest seems to have been air-brushed out of the picture because they don't fit the official narrative. Some were outsiders. I know some of them. They came, but they did not stay, and I don’t blame them; that was clearly the right decision.
Yes, I know there are still a few exceptions, a few throwbacks to an older moral and genetic version of today’s pale male. You obviously found a few, Ammon. You didn’t find enough. Giving you honorary rebel status for the moment, even though you clearly weren’t revolutionary in your intentions, you made a mistake that has been made down through history by a hundred different revolutionaries. You thought if you built it they would come. No, they won’t. 

You thought if you actually started something then the great masses would rise up. No, they won’t, Ammon, and all the rest of you. The masses in this country will never rise up. They will sit and they will watch, because the Zionist power structure has spent almost a full century socially engineering them to do that very thing, specifically in order to defuse and extinguish any possible revolution that might deprive the Jews and their liberal allies of their wealth and power.
Yes, there have been some cases in history where the bulk of the people have risen up. I have told you the story of Camille Desmoulins and the fall of the Bastille in July of 1789, and no, don’t worry, I’m not going to play La Marseillaise again. Sometimes, on very rare occasions, it does happen like that, most recently in Romania in 1989.  But history is replete with examples where the leader and a small band raised the banner of rebellion and stood there waiting with bated breath for the peasants to take up their pitchforks and torches, and the leader and his small band ended up swinging from trees when the king’s soldiers showed up instead. Or lying face down murdered in the snow.
                         A Grim Portent For The Future

There is something I have to speak of now regarding the Harney County incident which may well be the most historically and politically significant take-away from this whole business, an aspect which may have deep and long-ranging implications for the future.

Harney County and the behavior of Ammon Bundy and his associates has formally and publicly demonstrated something that I think we all knew in the privacy of our own thoughts, but which was seldom spoken of out loud. For reasons which will be obvious if you think about them, I never made a big deal out of this, but I knew that at some point down the road something would happen and I would be forced once again to voice out loud certain extremely uncomfortable truths that our wee little community most certainly does not want to hear, but which we had damned well better hear and internalize.
This Christmas panto in Harney County, Oregon has proven something that all of us have suspected, including I am sure the FBI and what is laughably referred to as federal “law enforcement.” I say laughable because when you live in a Third World dictatorship where the dictator rules by his own account with the stroke of his pen and his voice on the telephone, obviously there are no more laws to enforce and that’s a stupid term to use. The FBI and all the other alphabet soup of secret police agencies are just Obama’s gunmen, basically.
Anyway, the great secret is now out: all this militia stuff, the camouflage fatigues and the waving of assorted AR-180 models in the air and the talk about the Constitution—it’s all bluff. We will wave the guns in the air for the television cameras, but we won’t actually point them and pull the trigger, which I’m sure is a big load off the minds of the secret police. Their direct deposits are safe and will be enjoyed for many years to come.
I’m sure there may have been times in the past when the secret police were in fact a little worried that some of the peasants might actually break years of mental and emotional and subliminal conditioning and fire on them. I mean, what with all the waving of weapons in the air and the Budweiser talk. But the last time that happened in real life was when? 23 years ago next month? And even then, the Branch Davidians weren’t really “us.” In light of the horrific act of mass murder perpetrated by the Democrats of that time, (one of whom will probably become our next president), people tend to forget they were a very weird multi-racial cult. The whole thing started over the guru allegedly boning underage girls, which has always been one of the traditional perks of being a Prophet of God. (John Knox, the founder of Presbyterianism, was in his 60s when he married a 16 year-old girl. But I digress.)

I suspect that certain Induhviduals within the power structure, the faceless White and Jewish men in suits whose names are almost certainly completely unknown to the world at large but who are in charge of actually trying to run this loony bin,  were also somewhat concerned about all those guns lying around. They were pretty sure it was nothing but bluff, but they didn’t actually know. I mean, let’s face it, 300 million firearms in private hands? That’s an awful lot of guns, no matter how many generations you’ve spent using the media and perverting the national culture to make sure those guns are never turned on the men and women in the suits with the money and the power. Some kind of accidental Lexington or Fort Sumter was always a possibility, only now they know that won’t happen. They know that all they have to do is murder one or two of us as an example and we’ll hunker down in the corner, thumping our tails on the floor as we piss ourselves like whipped dogs, which I suppose is what we are.
It doesn’t matter how many guns we’ve got hidden away in our barns or our garages or in secret gun closets so we can take them out at night and stroke them and dream of all the great deeds we will do one day when that Balloon Goes Up. The régime now knows that we’re never actually going to point them and pull the trigger. We’re too timid and frightened and cowed and beaten down. If we make the nigger mad, the bad men in black might come and hurt us.
To me the one single thing that stands out about the whole of Harney County is that of the something over 100 shots fired, they were all fired by the secret police killers in order to murder one old man, and not one round was fired by the descendants of the men who stood on Lexington Green or at the Concord Bridge to make this country. The dictator and his servants know now that we never will.
We’re going to pay for that.


Blogger Technomad said...

If you haven't read it, Eric Frank Russell's novel Wasp is enlightening on how much one person can do. However, Russell's hero did not go strutting around courting attention.

8:17 PM  

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